


Inconsiderate

by Space_Interrobang



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Interrobang/pseuds/Space_Interrobang
Summary: You were through giving him chances. It needed to end.





	Inconsiderate

It was the last time. You knew it was. It had to be.

“Come on. Get that ass higher for me,” Chanyeol demanded lowly. His large hands held your hips, urging you to follow his orders. You brought your feet closer, bent over with your forearms braced on the wall. He moaned in satisfaction and continued his earlier movements. Thrusting in and out of you repeatedly. It wasn’t gentle. There was hardly any pleasure in it for you anymore. You could feel his belt hit your backside with each slam forward. Rattling as he moved. He hadn’t even bothered undressing this time. Your skirt bunched around your waist. You focused on the cold metal instead of him. Instead of his heavy breathing and bruising fingers. Instead of his dick stretching you open. Trying to close your ears to the slapping skin. Feeling the wall rub against your forearms. Your nails digging crescents into your palm. That one tiny hole in your sock you spotted while staring down at the floor. Anything was better to focus on than the lack of heat between you. Chanyeol was frustrated and stressed, and in the past few weeks you had been reduced from a lover to a booty call.

It had all started so amicably. You shared an awning by a crowded bus stop. His shoulder got wet from the pouring rain so he huddled closer. Apologizing when he bumped into you. You smiled politely and assured him it was fine. The wind picked up and began blowing the rain at an angle. Getting his shoes wet as well.

“Come on. Get closer,” you urged. Pulling on his sleeve. “Your whole side will be soaking otherwise.” The tall man’s ears tinted red. Drawing even more attention to them as his mask pulled on them. He was cute, you decided. So you spoke more with him. “Are you going home too?” His eyes appraised you in a glance. Deciding whether you were dangerous or not you supposed. Relieved when he replied shyly.

“Out to dinner, actually.”

“I’m so hungry~” you whined then switched back to normal. “Are you meeting friends?”

“A few, yeah.”

“I’ve been craving sushi all week. It’s a crime there’s not a fish market right outside my door to be honest. They’d get a lot of business from me.” That got him to relax. Eyes softening.

“I like sushi too.”

That was all it took. When the bus came he sat beside you, and everything went from there. He told you his name, and when you gave him yours he smiled. When you were nearing the end of your first date – eating sushi, mind you – he asked if you knew Exo. He explained why he was so intrigued by you. He explained how refreshing it was to meet someone who didn’t already have this grand version of himself in their heads. How relaxed he was with you. How happy he was it had rained so you could bump into each other. You returned the sentiment, and said nothing as he stole all the wasabi from your plate.

Time changes things, however. No matter how hard people try to stay still. Everything still changes. It wears and loses its color in the sun. Feelings grow and shift. Stripping off and morphing into resentment, scorn, sadness. Resentment toward the job that kept him from you in all aspects. Scorn for how you’ve cowered and watched your relationship die. Sadness for knowing you were about to lose someone you loved dearly.

“Oh fuck,” Chanyeol hissed behind you. His hips speeding up in their search for more pleasure. More of your heat. Calling out and clenching around him as he brushed a weak spot inside of you. Fingers grappling at air, unable to dig your nails into the wall. His name made it past your lips and he groaned. “P-please cum. I can’t…hold on much longer. Fuck you feel so good.” You weren’t even close to being able to cum before him. You were just getting started at best. His selfish hands and cock using you the moment he entered the door. What did it matter if you came? You’d been faking it for weeks. It was surprising but also somehow not at all surprising he didn’t notice. Chanyeol barely acknowledged that his stuff had been steadily “disappearing” from your apartment this last week. Ever since your last big argument when you told him you didn’t want to see him if he wasn’t going to take your feelings seriously. When his toothbrush went missing you reminded him you didn’t want him coming over so often. He laughed it off, joking about how you could never get tired of him, and walked to the corner store to buy a new one. He was clueless.

So of course he didn’t notice when you exaggerated your breathing and moans. Your voice escalating; louder and far more steady than when you were genuine. Waiting for just the right time until you squeezed your inner muscles tightly around Chanyeol. Moans falling off. Contracting in pulses to seem more real. He fell over the edge after you seemingly did. Burying himself deep inside you. Letting the last traces of your “orgasm” pull everything from him. Releasing one, long, choked out moan as he filled up the condom. A new rush of arousal flooding you at the sound. Why did he have to be so noisy? When you glanced from the floor over your shoulder you wished you had kept your focus on that hole in your sock. He was always so beautiful right after sex. Eyes heavily lidded, abused pink lips parted, his diaphragm pulling and pushing oxygen from his lungs unevenly. Forehead and neck usually glistening from sweat.

Chanyeol enjoyed keeping his member inside of you for a minute or two after finishing. He thought it was more intimate and he liked how you both would jump and gasp at each little movement from being sensitive. He loved overstimulating himself. Making small motions with his hips. Thrusting shallowly as his dick softened to feel your muscles twitch and rub him in the most deliciously tortuous ways. That time he kept you connected but let you straighten from your position, pressing your front to the wall. Trapping your body there as his hands ran up your waist, under your shirt, and cupped your breasts over the bra there. His lips going to make a sloppy trail up the side of your throat. You whimpered at the familiar feeling of him weakly humping you. Head lulling to the side to make room for his mouth. Letting him enjoy his last moments with you this way. Allowing him to grope and kiss and believe it was all real.

“Do you feel as good as I do right now?” he mumbled between light nips of skin. But the question turned out to be redundant. He didn’t really care about how you felt. “You make the best sounds when I’m inside you. My sweet jagi.” He moaned into the skin just below your ear. “Today was miserable. I’m so grateful you’re always here to help me.” You reached behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair. Rubbing his scalp lightly. A choked whine escaped him. Enjoying the attention. His cock twitching inside you. His breath tickling the shell of your ear as he cursed quietly. “Fuck. You want to go again? At least let me get a new condom.” You held his head to your neck. Not ready to let go yet. Not ready to never feel him again. Not ready to say it’s over. Memorizing his weight pressed against your back, his large hands on your breasts, his soft lips on your neck. The smell of his cologne and sex drifting around. The slight hum from the air conditioner in the background. The distant shattering of a woman who would have been overwhelmed with love at this moment months ago. Your emotions constricting your heart inside your chest. Suffocating any good that might have been attached to this memory in better circumstances. Now only leaving you with a sad type of nostalgia. You could sense it; this memory was going to be a shovel. Late at night when you were brewing tea with the bags under your eyes. Crying like there was a fire in your lungs that you could only feed. You’d use it on bad days to dig up the sadness and longing and regret. Thinking of him smiling and laughing with another person wondering if you could have tried harder. Or you’d dig up the dream of him holding you like you meant something to him. Thinking you’d rather not dream because then at least you could lie to yourself while you’re awake. Using up bottle after bottle of alcohol pretending they were lips belonging to someone else. Waiting for the time when there would be no more bad days. You’re not sure which hole is worse.

“Stay.” Chanyeol smiled. You ignored the sting in your heart. Knowing this was the only time he wouldn’t ignore your plea. His dominant hand sliding down your front. The pad of his middle finger lightly circling your clit. You shut your eyes to enjoy the sensation. The small movements of his length inside you working together to make your breath stutter. Under all the greed, when Chanyeol slowed down, he really did know how to pleasure you.

“Whatever you want princess.”

“Fuck, faster,” you whimpered. Hips writhing and grinding back on him. Trying to get more. To obtain what was owed after letting him use your body. His smile widened.

“Are you going to cum again already? What a wicked little princess. Weak for my cock.” His free hand gripped your hip, slamming you forward to the wall. Pinning you so you were still. Then he added a second finger on your clit and went faster. Whining and cursing in your ear. The pressure in your gut building rapidly now that he wasn’t focused on himself. “Tell me,” Chanyeol prompted. Demanding the words he loved hearing from your mouth. The pandering to his ego. Staving off your end until you listened. “Come on, tell me.” It had become understood ever since that night. The night the other Exo members took it too far. That you would be his thing he took out all his frustration on.

They had always teased him for his dancing, but they helped him in the end. That time the choreography had them doing a few body rolls while on their knees, and Chanyeol couldn’t get the movement right. He always managed to look like he was awkwardly thrusting. His body not as fluid as he needed it to be. So the teasing began. Then the mocking. Then the step too far; the insults at his prowess in bed. The jabs at his ability to be sexy. Minseok and Yixing teaming up on him to show him how much better they would fuck you. Or teaching Chanyeol how to make his body wave. He stopped listening after Sehun lamented about his pity for you. To not have a partner who was good at pleasing you. What a shame.

So he came to your place that night. Not even two steps inside before he was lifting you against the wall, your legs around his waist. Demanding you tell him how good he was at fucking you. Then once the initial bruised ego had a balm he took you to bed and did it again. Slower, so you could watch his hips roll into yours. So he could smirk in victory. He wasn’t awkward or bad. He was sure of it. Until he wasn’t and he was back in your arms with the same order on his lips.

“Tell me.”

“Chan–” you gasped. His fingers working your clit while you grasped for words. “I love how you fuck me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes. Yes, fuck. Don’t stop.”

“That’s it. Good girl. Cum on my cock. Cum all over me jagi.” At those words you careened over the edge. Gasping and shaking. His hold on you pretty much the only thing keeping you standing. Once the initial wave ebbed away you released his hair and he pulled out of you. By the time you smoothed your clothes back into place he had finished cleaning up behind you. Going to the kitchen to throw out the used condom. You walked slowly to the sofa across the room. Limbs heavier than before. Building up the words in your chest. Working the courage to pull them into your mouth.

“Chanyeol,” you started quietly. You knew he heard you though since his head turned slightly to listen better over his shoulder. His hands on the kitchen counter. “As much as I enjoyed that, and having you over…” You felt the lump of guilt rise as the lie eked through your teeth. Swallowing to replace it with the statements you had prepared. “I don’t think you should stay tonight. Actually…” The truth was just as difficult to scrape off your tongue. Your lips were parted but the words got trapped somewhere. It didn’t matter much. Chanyeol spoke up anyway. Voice far away and defeated.

“Stop lying.” He turned around then. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on the counter. “I know that was the first real orgasm you’ve had in a while. Not like you hide it well. I get it. I’m not enough anymore. But thanks for humoring me, I guess.”

“That’s not it.”

“Oh?” he replied indignantly. Eyebrows raised high. “Isn’t that why you hardly let me stay over anymore? You’re worried you’ll have to fake it again with your pathetic boyfriend?”

“I never said you were pathetic.”

“Ha! So you admit it! You don’t like sleeping with me anymore. You dread it.”

“Dread is a strong word–”

“Just say it. I’m bad at sex. Then we can move on. You can teach me, o-or I’ll go read a book or something.” You were about to counter, but that last thing threw you off. He never read.

“A book?”

“I don’t fucking know! This is why I need help!”

“Chanyeol,” you called softly. Trying to keep things calm. The last thing you wanted was a shouting match. “You’re not bad all the time. You know I enjoy being with you.”

“Then talk to me. I’ll fix whatever it is.” You knew he was talking about sex, but you couldn’t help but imprint those pleas onto your whole relationship. It didn’t matter what he tried. He couldn’t fix what was wrong. You sighed.

“I wish it were that easy.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because it’s not…just the sex.”

“Are you talking about that cookie dough? Cause I told you I was planning on saving you some, but you came back so late–”

“No,” you cut off. “No, it’s not that. It’s just about everything else.” Chanyeol grew more serious. A novelty as of late. Standing up straight, arms falling limp at his side. Confused. You hated that he was confused. Irritation bubbling inside you. Had he not felt your relationship fizzling? Was he that blind?

“What?”

“W-well you never take my feelings seriously and you always find excuses to not be around me.” Now that you began explaining the bitterness flowed easier. Poisoning your words. “If you didn’t come around to fix your stupid bruised ego by fucking me I’d be hard pressed to say we were even dating.”

“How can you say that? We hang out all the time.”

“No, we don’t. You come over to fuck and then fall asleep. You don’t even stay in the morning because of work. I feel like one of those women who refuses to see how she’s being used because she cares for the other person. Well, I’m done lying to myself. I’m done letting you use me like some fucked up friends with benefits scenario.” That was the first time you saw hurt cross Chanyeol’s features.

“Use you? I love you. You know I love you.”

“You just love my cunt.” Those words stabbed him further and he looked like he was about to cry. Cheeks flushing and eyes watering. It was hard to witness. His voice cracking when he spoke next.

“Don’t say that.”

“You’re only around me to fix your insecurities, but it’s never enough is it? You’re just so…selfish.” He took three steps toward you then froze. Like someone clicked the pause button. Lips parted. You groaned in frustration and shoved on his chest to snap him out of it. Stumbling back with wide eyes. You were unable to stop yourself from twisting the knife apparently. “Aren’t you going to laugh it off?” you spat. Raising your voice despite what you had planned. “Say this is all in my head?! Aren’t you going to make this into one big fucking joke like you always do?! Huh, funny guy?! Is that what this relationship was to you?! A joke?!”

“Was?”

“I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice tightened. Your vision suddenly blurry with tears. Not trusting yourself to speak much longer you whispered. Defeated and sad, and not at all strong like you’d hoped. “I can’t do this anymore.” Chanyeol called your name desperately.

“Do what? What can’t you do? I don’t understand.” You laughed bitterly and sank onto the couch. Leaning your forearms on your legs. It was just as hopeless as the last fight.

Chanyeol had the day off, but he was going to leave you anyway for a day at the studio. You whined at him to stay. Upset that he would abandon you again so easily when you finally had time to relax together. You were on your last reserves for putting up with his bullshit. Standing on opposite sides of the kitchen while he put his dishes in the sink.

“I’ll be back later tonight. I promise,” he said, but you felt anything but assured. Rolling your eyes.

“But I want to spend time with you now. Don’t you want to take a break?”

“Nope. I have this really neat idea for a bridge with a suspended ninth that I want to test out.” He faced you with that stupid grin and you lost it. Your cool facade cracking into hopelessness.

“Do you even know how much I miss you? You’re standing two feet from me and I miss you. Do you get that? I never see you anymore.”

“You see quite a bit more of me than most women,” he chuckled.

“You know what I mean,” you pleaded. Tears gathering in your eyes at your frustration of his lack of understanding. Of his refusal to acknowledge how wrecked your emotions were. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in daylight in weeks. I just want to hang out with my boyfriend for a day like a normal person. Please Chanyeol. Stay with me.” He walked to you and took your face in his large hands. Then he kissed your forehead and smiled down at you.

“You’re so cute when you want me. I’ll be back. I promise.” You shoved his hands away and glared up at him.

“If you’re not going to take me seriously then don’t bother coming back.” The words went right over his head and he kissed you briefly. Flattening your pout you didn’t notice you had acquired.

“Stop being so adorable jagi. You know it’s hard for me to resist that cute little pout.” That was the moment. The fork in the road where things could’ve gone differently. Then he left you alone in your apartment, and you couldn’t keep putting a one-sided effort into a one-sided relationship. So you made your decision to break up with him.

“You don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?” you questioned Chanyeol in the present. You didn’t dare look, but his silence was enough. Staring at your trembling hands as the first tears escaped your eyes. “You always choose everything over me. I was never important to you. Just some fucking afterthought. You never considered me or my feelings in anything.” Even on your first date when he stole your wasabi, you lamented in your head.

He remained silent and you blinked more tears out. Rolling down your cheeks as the last of your energy drained from you. Unable to stomach his eyes on you anymore. Unable to stand his toxic presence in your apartment. God, it was going to take days for you to clean his scent and his remnants away. Already thinking of all the steps you would need to do to accomplish your Chanyeol purge. Washing the sheets being second on that list. The first being to get the actual person to go.

Someone you had once begged to stay. Now you couldn’t wait to see him leave.

“Just go. Please. It’s not like it was hard for you before.”

“I can’t.” You guffawed and swiped at your face to clear the drying trails.

“Oh so now he speaks.”

“I still love you.” You stood abruptly and turned to him, yelling without the lump completely gone in your throat yet. With a lie leaving your lungs. Resulting in your voice breaking like so much glass after a big earthquake.

“Well I don’t love you anymore!”

You regretted it instantly. His face was red and puffy and wet from his own burning tears. A bit of snot leaking out his nose. You thought your words would get him to leave faster, but now it just looked like you were breaking his heart to spite him. And maybe you were. Why shouldn’t you after he did so much damage to your heart?

“You don’t mean that.” There was the final breaking point. He still didn’t care about what you said. Even in all this mess he was denying your feelings. You took a deep breath, more tears sliding down your face. Of course he would say that. Of course of all things he chose to say those four words. You should be grateful he did honestly because it made it easier to harden your voice when you chose your last words to him. Two short words.

“Get out.” And it made it easier to watch his back as he walked out of your apartment for the last time. Slugging through your doorway with his shoulders slumped and head hung low. Easier to lock the door after him and ignore the muffled sobbing you could hear in the hallway. Easier to clear your eyes and go to your bedroom to strip off the sheets. Throwing out the old sun-faded things to make room for new, more colorful ones. Easier to begin moving on.


End file.
